


Cold and Broken

by uniquepov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-18
Updated: 2012-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry survived the Final Battle, but what about the aftermath? Survivor guilt can make surviving untenable.</p><p>Written for <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_hp_didi_fest"></span><a href="http://hp-didi-fest.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://hp-didi-fest.livejournal.com/"><b>hp_didi_fest</b></a> 2011 (disfigurement, injury, disability or illness)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold and Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from one of the best songs ever written, _Hallelujah_ , by Leonard Cohen. Although I was listening to the kd lang version at the time. This is the first songfic I have ever attempted. Please be kind.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. However, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I’m done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.

 

  
_It’s not a cry you can hear at night  
It’s not somebody who has seen the light … _   


 

In the aftermath of the Final Battle, Harry stumbled through the wreckage of the castle that had been the only real home he had ever known. Hogwarts was destroyed, and the loss left a palpable ache deep in his chest, one that was only eclipsed by the stabbing pain of grief that plagued him. He fell to his knees as fatigue overtook him and he sat, with his back to a crumbling stone wall still warm from the fires that had ravaged this part of the castle, and continued his litany – reciting the names of the fallen, over and over again, until weariness finally claimed him and his world went mercifully black.

 

  
_There was a time you let me know  
What's really going on below  
But now you never show it to me, do you?…_

 

Hermione and Ron found Harry standing at the edge of the Black Lake, staring into the murky depths with an unreadable expression. Though his voice had long since given out, his lips still formed his litany of names, a silent penance to whatever gods were left to oversee the fallout from such senseless carnage. He was vaguely aware of Ron’s strong arms enveloping him from behind, while Hermione hugged them both tightly, sandwiching Harry in between. He had no idea how long they’d stood there, offering silent, cold comfort; he thought it might have gotten dark, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew he’d gone through his names, his penance, four times, at least, before they led him back to the castle, to the clutch of survivors who gathered around them, speaking his name in a reverent whisper.

 

  
_But all I’ve ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you… _   


 

Harry prowled restlessly in the moonlight, unable to sleep despite the bone-crushing tiredness that weighed on him like the ravaged stone of the castle walls. He found himself in the wreckage of the Astronomy Tower, standing in the shadows, staring down into the abyss that had claimed Albus Dumbledore’s body, a lifetime ago. His senses prickled as slow footfalls shuffled up the staircase, the newcomer letting out a soft sniffle as they stepped up to the edge. White-blond hair gleamed in the moonlight as Draco Malfoy stood staring out into the void, oblivious to anything other than the drop before him. Harry could see the tears tracking his cheeks as Draco inched closer to the edge. Impulsively, Harry shot his arm out of the shadows to halt Draco’s progress, pulling him back to safety. Draco’s panicked look pinned him as he stepped forward, out of the dark, but as soon as his features were revealed, Draco’s face crumpled and he dropped to his knees with a sob.

 

  
_I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march… _   


 

“Why?” Draco’s voice was cracked and pained.

Harry didn’t answer; in the long moments that Draco had been crying, he’d returned to his penance, name after name falling silently from dry and bleeding lips.

Draco stared at him for a long moment, before stumbling awkwardly to his feet. Harry’s arm moved, almost of its own volition, and his hand wrapped firmly around Draco’s wrist, pulling him down again.

“Why?” Draco asked again, a broken plea.

“Too many names already,” Harry whispered finally. “No more.”

 

_I did my best, it wasn't much  
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch…_

 

The Ministry pageantry left him cold and dazed.

 _Funerals were supposed to be remembrances,_ Harry reflected, _comfort to those left behind as they remembered a life well lived._

_Not that that was really an option, with so many young lives cut short._

Still, it left a dull, numbing ache in his chest to see the military honours again and again, hear the speeches about bravery and courage and nobility and sacrifice, when the truth was that all any of them had really been trying to do was just to survive. Child soldiers in a war not of their own making. He fought the urge to be sick, again.

Today, they had erected the temporary memorial on Hogwarts grounds, and Harry had been sick every time he looked at it. As soon as he could, he slipped away, stumbling up the stairs to the still-battle-ravaged Astronomy Tower, but even that refuge was denied him, as the gleaming obelisk of the memorial rose up between the castle itself and the Forbidden Forest.

Staring at it, Harry began his recitation of names, taking a tiny step forward with each one. He felt as though he were in a trance, moving closer and closer to the edge, yet he found himself looking forward to the oblivion which the edge promised so clearly.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder and he was wrenched unceremoniously back from the edge, strong arms wrapping around him as he finally collapsed, with a strangled cry, and gave in to the tide of tears that he’d held back since the battle.

After what seemed an eternity, he raised his reddened eyes to meet Draco’s steely gaze.

“Why?” Harry’s voice was raw, hoarse from the tears and his continued penance.

“No more,” Draco whispered roughly. “No more.”

 

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah…_

 

It was the first time since the end of the battle that Harry had not felt driven to replace any silence or inaction with his penance of names. Finally letting flow the tide of grief he had been holding back had somehow quieted the recriminations of the dead and the sobs of the living, and all Harry could hear in that single, blessed moment was two sets of ragged breaths and one heartbeat.

 _No,_ he realised with a start. _Two heartbeats. In unison._

They sat at the top of the ravaged tower, grief calling grief, and Harry could feel the dark, cold prison he’d found himself in easing, just a little.

 

  
_And even though it all went wrong  
I'll stand before the Lord of Song  
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah… _

 

His friends told him he could talk to them; that they’d all been through the same things. Harry knew that was true, but at the same time, it wasn’t. He knew that, ultimately, he was responsible. _He’d_ been the banner they had rallied behind; _he_ had been their champion. If he’d been quicker, smarter, known more, then more deaths might have been avoided. But he _hadn’t_ been, and now they were gone, forever.

Harry didn’t analyse what had happened on the Astronomy tower that night. He didn’t want to look too deeply into it; all he knew was that in Draco’s arms, the names had stopped. The constant cries of the dying echoing in his ears had stopped.

_In Draco Malfoy’s arms._

For now, it was enough.

 

  
_It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah… _


End file.
